Bright Eyes
by alaricnomad
Summary: AU. When Nathan brought his daughter into their lives, he brought a kind of hope into Peter's. After it was torn away, Peter came to find the memory of a certain pair of bright eyes stayed with him anyway. COMPLETED UNTIL FURTHER CONSIDERATION.


**Bright Eyes**  
By Alaricnomad

_New York City, Upper Manhattan, 1989_

Nathan had never been one to bring company when he came home- not frat buddies, classmates or even girlfriends. Peter was nine the first time that changed.

He hated it when Nathan was gone. Without his big brother around, the house was even emptier and the extra attention his parents focused on him without their firstborn around was stifling. At least when Nate was around, he could defend Peter's eccentricies to their mother at the dinner table whenever she reprimanded him over whatever fault she found (his appearance, his friends, or his grades).

When Nate was around, attending social functions choked up in a tie while his face hurt from all the smiling wasn't so bad- Nate always let him sneak something extra from the dessert table, let Peter sit in his lap when he talked to pretty girls instead of brushing him off like other brothers would.

He missed his big brother. Nathan was twenty and a man, Arthur Petrelli continually reminded his youngest, and men didn't have time for childish games. Things weren't so bad when Nate went to college, at least then he was only a few hours away and he visited every couple of weekends, but the elder had joined the Navy directly after graduation, consequently stationed far to the south while he went through training.

But things changed unexpectedly one summer, when Nathan came home with a pretty blonde girl in tow, heavily pregnant, who he introduced as Meredith, his wife.

The announcement had the entire Petrelli family in an uproar, and even Peter was old enough to see how extreme Arthur and Angela's disapproval was. But Nathan was equally as stubborn and he held fast. Soon, Nate and the blonde were living in a penthouse in Lower Manhattan, and Meredith's stomach got bigger with every day.

xx

Peter was furious. Here he was, with his big brother back in the city, living half-an-hour away, and he hadn't seen him more than twice in the month he'd been back. His attention was all on stupid Meredith and the stupid baby. Nathan was stupid for not coming to see him and the whole thing was just…Stupid!

While the younger Petrelli sat fuming in his bedroom that night, Nathan was perched on his windowsill, peering worriedly at his baby brother, obviously deep in a rare fit of temper. "C'mon, Pete, why won't you talk to me?"

"Leave me alone! Go home to your wife and your baby. You want them more than you want me anyway."

Sighing to himself, as he recognized a reaction similar (those a bit less mature, given their ages) to the one he had when Peter was born, Nathan grabbed the wriggling boy and sat him on his knee, quietly and patiently explaining that starting a family didn't mean Peter was any less special to him. Not to mention, just imagine all the cool things Peter could teach the baby when it got older.

Working further to appease the considering boy, Nathan playfully ruffled his hair and whispered slyly, "Can you keep a secret?"

Grinning as he recognized a familiar code between them, Peter nodded eagerly. Nathan gathered him up in his arms and took him flying, high above the city.

Peter was delighted. Not only did he have his big brother back, but he was getting a little niece or nephew out of the deal. Life couldn't have been better.

xx

Both of them stared, neither of them willing to allow a break in their battle of wills. The creature blinked, once, twice, staring innocently ahead to lock gazes with his eyes.

Peter merely blinked in return.

"Pete, what are you doing?"

The ten-year-old boy blinked once more, startled out of his intense focus by the quiet sound of his brother's voice. Quizzically, he raised his gaze to meet the dark eyes of the man standing in the doorway.

Nathan Petrelli leaned casually against the doorframe, regarding his only brother with a mixture of interest, puzzlement, and concern. When he had come home less than a year before with his budding family, to whom Angela had spitefully referred to as "the white trash whore and her bastard child", seeing Peter again with all his obvious excitement was a breath of fresh air.

"What are you doing, Peter? How long has Claire been awake?"

Peter said nothing in response to his brother's questions, only shrugging his thin shoulders, as he turned back to the girl-child in the nearby crib. Nathan's handsome face twisted into another worried frown.

The boy was young, the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, not yet poisoned by outside influence. Peter's hero worship and undying adoration were enough to balm any hurt his parents' reaction had caused. What confused him, however, was how quickly Peter's excitement over the baby had faded to a strange distant nonchalance.

Since his brother had come to stay with them for the weekend, his behavior had taken a bizarre turn regarding Nathan's ten-week old daughter. Peter made no move to touch or even approach the infant, and yet spend hours on end doing nothing more than staring.

Nathan was at the end of his rope trying to figure out the situation.

The object of Peter's fascination made her presence known then, with a loud squall. Nathan couldn't help when his frown softened into a warm smile, moving to peer down at his daughter. Little Claire gurgled at what to her was probably a blur of shape and color, reaching up with waving arms. Nathan lifted her up, cradling the tiny body close as he looked back at his brother, who watched them silently. "Well, since she's awake, why don't we take her out with us to the living room? Will you grab her blanket for me, Pete?"

Peter did as asked and trekked after Nathan. Before long, Nathan had his daughter settled in her swing, turning the crank to settle the chair into a gentle back-and-forth. Peter took a seat nearby, still and passive as stone as he retook his vigil of watching over her.

Nathan let himself fade into the background, sauntering over to lean against the doorframe leading to the kitchen. His eyes fluttered close with appreciation as he inhaled, his nostrils filling with the alluring aromas sifting from the kitchen.

Keeping one eye on the children, Nathan turned his head just enough for his voice to project to the woman at the stove. "Is that pasta I smell?"

Peter blinked.

Claire blinked.

At first glance, Peter had not known what to make of this squirming bundle of energy his brother had introduced to him. He'd wanted a boy after all, and this thing was just so little and whiny, what was he supposed to do with her?

But even so, he felt strange about this girl, as if something about her was supposed to be different.

Ringlets of blonde hair framed a cherub, heart shaped face, an impish grin always present on thin lips, brilliant green eyes sparkling and vibrant as they turned to regard Peter Petrelli.

Most boys would not have understood such a reaction to this girl-child, struck by awe and a strange wave of protectiveness whenever he caught sight of a tiny angel. She seemed so small, so fragile like his mother's precious china, and he was so afraid that with one touch he would break her.

Nathan had reassured him otherwise, and Peter always believed his big brother. Before he could hesitate again, his body acted of its own accord. Slowly, his young face shadowed with uncertainty, he reached out his hand, momentarily startled by the soft touch to his palm as tiny fingers wrapped around his own.

The next time Nathan checked on the children, Peter was fully submerged in playing with the baby, his usually solemn face bright with a smile more radiant than the sun itself.

xx

Peter was absolutely besotted. It wasn't long before in his young mind, his pretty little niece was the most beloved thing in his world. And no one could say that little Claire didn't adore her Uncle Peter.

Peter often wrinkled his nose at the title, stating it made him feel old. Nathan would laugh and mess up his hair, reminding him he better get used to it for when Claire starting growing up. Peter, however, made a mental note that when Claire started learning how to talk, he would teach her just to call him plain old Peter.

For now though, he was just the warm, laughing boy who liked to pick her up and sit her in his lap, tickle her sides and tell her stories she didn't quite get but enjoyed nonetheless because his voice was soft and nice. For now, she was just his pretty little Bright Eyes.

xx

"Come on, Claire. You can do it!"

One evening as husband and wife stood at the kitchen sink washing the dishes from that night's meal, the sudden exclamation from the neighboring room elicited an exchange of puzzled glances and a sudden rush to the living room, with last-minute thoughts not to crash into the baby gate separating the rooms.

The sight that greeted them left them nothing short of astounded. In the center of the room, Claire's pile of toys purposely cleared away, supported by the thin but sturdy frame of Peter, Claire Petrelli was walking, guided in shaky but firm footsteps by nothing more than the young boy's hands.

A moment later, he released her completely, backing away several steps. Meredith's hand locked on his in a death grip, Nathan felt the breath hitch in his throat as they watched- for it was a long-known fact both parents had been unsuccessful in the past several weeks trying to help baby Claire in her attempts to walk.

Claire faltered for just a second, regaining her balance to set a purposeful pace across the carpet. After covering the distance between them, Claire collapsed into Peter's arms. Peter held her tightly, holding the toddler's weight without hindrance.

Nathan had to wonder who looked prouder; Meredith, Peter, or himself, for the two adults were left breathless and beaming as the boy displayed a satisfied smile, sitting down on the floor beside his self-imposed ward.

Meredith shook her head in wonder. "Peter, how did you…"

Peter shrugged indifferently, though his young solemn face considerably softened as he returned his gaze to Claire, gifting her with a set of vibrantly colored building blocks from the nearby basket of toys. His lips twisted into an uncharacteristic pout, hitting his fist against his chest in an emphasizing gesture. "She's my Bright Eyes. I had to teach her how to walk."

xx

"Pet-ah!"

A blur tore through the kitchen of the small residence, followed closely behind by the source of the infuriated squeal that had echoed through the household only moments before. Claire rounded the corner, intent on her racing prey as fast as her much shorter legs would carry her. On the opposite side of the room, Meredith shared a look with Nathan, half-amused, half-irritated, as Nathan moving to intercept his brother before he did himself harm.

"Oomph." Fourteen-year-old Peter collided with considerable force into his brother's solid frame, restrained from falling over by the strong arm that locked across his back. Just behind him, Meredith caught their flailing four-year-old daughter, an endearing young girl with blond hair plaited back into twin braids, heart-shaped face flushed with fury; she glared toward Peter with all the force her young mind could muster.

"Claire Petrelli, what on earth has gotten into you?"

Green eyes blazing with promised wrath as they bore into an impishly grinning Peter, the girl glanced at her father with a petulant pout, pointed an accusing finger in the young Petrelli's direction. "He did it, Papa! He made my dolly blue!"

Nathan's jaw dropped at the accusation, staring downward as the girl as he tried to relate such a thing with rational thinking. It was in that moment that Nathan finally recognized the bundle his daughter carried tucked beneath her arm. What was once a plastic replica of a young girl-child, complete with pink and frilly clothing, blue glass eyes, and long locks of artificial blond hair, was now completely dyed in a vibrantly dark blue, hair, skin, and all.

Nathan glanced at the boy, standing nearby with his mouth upturned into a devilish grin, unrepentant as he defiantly raised his chin, stubbornly proud in the uniform he still wore from the private school he attended. His prideful stance would have been comical in any other circumstance, dark hair tousled beyond its usual untidiness, some kind of dirt smeared across one cheek, the tell-tale sign of blue dye staining his hands.

"Pete? You dyed her doll blue?"

Peter nodded once, staring up at his brother with a curious expression. "Uh-huh. She didn't have to get so mad, Nate. It was just a joke. For April Fool's Day."

"Pete, buddy, there's a difference between playing a joke and being mean. You should apologize to Claire."

Peter rolled his eyes, "Alright, fine. Sorry, Claire."

Claire stared at him darkly, folding her arms with an indignant huff. "'pology not accepted, Pet-ah." Tears spilled into wide green eyes, but the young girl irritably turned her head away, refusing to allow any of the males present to see her cry. She stomped out of the room in a huff, a choked sob heard before she disappeared around the corner.

"Claire…" Meredith shook her head, sending her husband a helpless glance before starting after their daughter.

Once they had gone, Nathan turned his attention back to his brother, his expression stern and stony in a way that would have unnerved the boy's defiance away had the stubborn look not already melted away, replaced by shadows of guilt. "I…I didn't mean to make her cry, Nathan."

Nathan sighed. "I know, Peter."

The teenager awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, continuing, "It's just weird, and completely stupid of me. When she was littler, she looked at me like I was some great hero, you know? Now, she's getting older. She's started school, and she's making friends and now she doesn't even pay much attention to me anymore…and I'm jealous in some weird way. I just wanted to get her attention. Stupid, huh?"

"No," Nathan smiled reassuringly, reaching out to briefly touch the younger's shoulder, "I get it. I'm her dad, remember? It's strange watching having to let her go a bit. But you get used to it, bud."

Peter sighed, quietly agreeing, and Nathan gently instructed, "Why don't you up to the guestroom for now? I take it you're staying the weekend?"

The boy nodded, pausing momentarily in the doorway. "Nate?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going anywhere t'night?"

"Mer wants me to go to the store. Why?"

"Can I come with? There's something I want to do."

xx

Even as Claire Petrelli awoke the next morning, her room flooded with the sunlight of the morning, the sound of birds chirping sifting through the air, she could not bring herself to find satisfaction in it. Closing her eyes against the lingering memories of the previous day, she battled between feelings of pride and guilt. She shouldn't have gotten so angry with Peter, especially after he had apologized. Though granted, he still had made her favorite doll blue…maybe he wasn't to be forgiven so easily…

As she opened her eyes, intent on rising from the bed, her movements were stilled as she found herself staring into a pair of glassy eyes. Pulling back to examine their source, she found a soft blue teddy bear with shining brown eyes resting on the pillow beside her.

She grinned, holding the bear close as she climbed out of bed.

xx

As Claire came bounding down the stairs to join the two adults of the household for breakfast, her bright smile and enthusiastic hugs surprised but relieved them both. Favoring the girl with a smile, Nathan aided her in sliding off his lap after she had jumped into his arms, sending his significant other a puzzled expression.

Equally lost, Meredith shrugged, moving back to the stove to dish out a plate of eggs and toast for Claire. Receiving no revealing answer, Nathan turned his attention back to his coffee and newspaper. During their distraction, Peter appeared in the doorway, glancing up cautiously at the younger girl at the kitchen table.

His worries proved to be unfounded, however, as Claire launched herself from her chair, her destination being the boy's arms. Peter blinked with mild surprise as she embraced him, unable to suppress a soft smile as he brushed a hand through her ringlets of blonde hair.

"Thank you, thank you, Pet-ah!"

"Did you like your bear, Bright Eyes?"

"Yeah…"

His smile faded slightly, replaced by uncertainty. "Am I forgiven then?"

She placed a finger against her chin in deliberation, ruining the seriousness of the expression as she broke out into an impish smile. "Just this once…though it is a very nice bear. I think I'll name him Mr. Petey!"

The color drained from the boy's face. "Mr. Petey?"

"Yep. And from now on, you're Petey too!"

Beyond them, both parents shook in suppressed laughter, glad that both children had come out of their first fight relatively unscathed, with the exception of Peter's budding male pride.

xx

_Lower Manhattan, 1994_

It was the first day of his freshman year, and Peter hated it already. It'd always been small for his age and a bit skinny, but after he reached his growth spurt, he had at least hoped the bullies would start leaving him alone. But puberty didn't change one's personality all that easily and he found himself still awkward, still shy, still wanting nothing more to contently fade into the background.

So he found himself running up the stairs to Nathan's apartment, pulling at the irritating tie belonging to his school uniform. Anticipation filled him at the thought of seeing Claire, knowing a visit with her was guaranteed to brighten his bad day, not to mention eager to hear how her first day of kindergarten had gone.

He bounded his way through the door, not bothering to knock. He called out a greeting to his Bright Eyes, his only answer being a stifling silence. Confused, he ventured further into the penthouse, met with the shocking sight of his larger-than-life big brother, slumped over in a chair with his head in his hands, looking utterly defeated.

"Nathan?"

At the sound of his voice, Nathan wearily looked up at the younger, meeting his concerned gaze with red-rimmed eyes hazy with obvious intoxication, if the half-empty whisky bottle in his hand was any indication. Shattered glass littered the floor nearby, joined by torn books and an upended coffee table, knickknacks thrown from their shelves, pictures hanging crooked on the walls. And speaking of walls, a tell-tale hold smashed into the plaster, the dust and blood coating one of his brother's fists, started to fit the pieces of the puzzle together in a way that Peter felt a foreboding sensation rising in his gut.

"What happened, Nate? Where's Claire?"

He didn't even bother to mention Meredith. He'd never liked her anyway, finding her too vain, too materialistic, too whiny, and part of him was sure she had a role in whatever was causing that sinking feeling inside of him.

"She's gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?"

Nathan's wearied eyes closed and he took another deep swig from the bottle, "I mean, Meredith walked out on me and she took Claire with her."

Panic rose up, "Why haven't you gone after them? Why didn't you stop her?"

"I tried. I was too mad- I was afraid I'd hit her or something. By the time I calmed down, she was long gone. Besides, I think Ma had a hand in this. And if Ma's involved, there's no way to find them. They'll just disappear, Pete. She'll make sure of that."

Watching his big brother fall into himself, Peter stepped forward and threw his arms around Nathan. Nathan, for his part, pulled the younger- much smaller in frame- into his lap and hugged him tightly as his very last lifeline. Too grief-stricken to be ashamed in his sudden backtracking into childhood habits, Peter let his brother pull him close, and clung to him just as strongly.

xx

The next day, Nathan informed him he was shipping out within the week. He'd earned his wings years ago, the elder Petrelli informed him, and it was about time he did his duty.

Though he forced a smile and wished his brother well, Peter had never felt so alone in his entire fifteen years.


End file.
